


Warm Summer Evening

by WhiskyFlavored



Category: Bleach
Genre: F/M, Loss of Virginity, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-10
Updated: 2013-09-10
Packaged: 2017-12-26 05:20:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/962071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhiskyFlavored/pseuds/WhiskyFlavored
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post time-skip Ichigo and Rukia share an intimate moment.  Written for the BKM hosted at Dreamwidth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Warm Summer Evening

The crickets outside were just starting to chirp as the brief rain came to a drizzling halt.  The air was warm, damp and soon filled with their lulling, familiar song.  Sitting on his bed in the darkness and listening to the calls of the crickets outside, Ichigo felt as if the buzz was reverberating through his entire body.  He felt alive again, for the first time in over a year, that familiar feeling of energy coursing through his body.  His eyes fell to his hands, wrapped by the strange black cladding, and reached up to touch his neck to feel the collar there.  A whif of that energy alerted his senses and he sought it out instinctively.

His eyes lifted from staring at his own hands and scanned the darkness of his room, captured quickly by her twin points of sapphire-violet.  It was her he had thank for this, but the words jammed in his throat.  His lips worked in silence but he could see the corners of her eyes lift as she smiled back.  She understood, without him having to say a word, she always understood.

A rustle of fabric, the slightest shift of her shoulders, and he could read a sudden uncertainty in the lines of her body.  She stood halfway between the door and her old closet, as if unsure what her place was.  The question was plain in her eyes, 'Do I still belong here?'

Ichigo narrowed his eyes and gave a quick shake of his head.  Even in the dimness of the room he could see her face flicker with the shadow of shock, anger and betrayal ghost across her face in the space of a heart beat.  Wary confusion replaced them as he held out his hand to her.  A few tentative steps later, his smile encouraging her, she took his hand and found herself wrapped in his embrace.  'Oh, I don't belong over there,' she smirked at him, rolling her eyes but inwardly thrilling as his hands settled around her.  'I belong over *here*.'

Close now, enough to feel the heat of each others' bodies, they held one another.  They'd hugged before, awkward, brief things full of furtive smiles and the clumsiness that comes from youth and inexperience.  This  was something else, something more.  Rukia didn't know what to expect when he'd drawn her in, but this had been a pleasant surprise.  It was even more surprising when she felt his hands caress up her back, tingly chills spreading his fingers, and feather through her hair.

She was different but still the same; different hair but same eyes and smirk, different rank but the same body he knew so well. Different gloves, same hands that tightened around him as he let the silky strands of her shorter, midnight hair slip through his fingers.

There were equal parts surprise and interest on her face as he let his hands slip down her back.  His fingers interlocked, telling her he wasn't interested in letting her go any time soon.  She tilted her head up as she settled against him, apparently willing to drop the pretense of this being just a friendly gesture if he was, and then froze as his lips brushed against her forehead.

He let his lips linger there, savoring the sensation of her skin against his.  The overture was there, he'd made his feelings plain with that single act.  All the sorrow he'd felt as she'd faded away and all the elation that had swept over him when she'd returned.  

And maybe, if he was lucky, everything else he felt for her.  He had thought he'd have a lifetime to understand these feelings, to let them grow and develop, to learn everything about what they meant.  He hadn't, and when she slipped through his fingers for what might have been the last time, his one regret was not telling her sooner.

He wouldn't make that mistake again.

He felt her stiffen in his arms and broke the kiss off, wanting to give her time and space to think.  His arms slackened a fraction before her fingers dug into the material of his shihaksho, rooting him in place.  Her eyes flicked up to his in the semi-darkness of the room, searching, studying, cautious... Hopeful?

Her hands slid slowly up over his chest, grazing past the banding at his neck as he shivered beneath her touch.  Her bare fingertips rested at his hairline a moment, her hands sheathed in those white gloves, before  gliding down over his ear to the back ofhis head.  She applied the barest of pressures along his neck, her toes pushing her upwards against him.

Tentative and vulnerable, they knew thew were treading new ground and were either unable or unwilling to stop.  Her body pressed deliciously against his, the friction sending sparks of heat she pulled him to her and he gathered her up.  Their lips met with a slow cautiousness that gradually ebbed away as passion and confidence left them emboldened.

She could feel the stubble as their lips sealed together, her body arching into his and her fingers digging into his hair.  The heady rush of harbored feelings revealed and reciprocated had left her lightheaded and she eagerly deepened their kiss when she felt his hands ghosting across her back.  It was when her finger snagged the collar of his robes that things took a drastic change.

The languor with which he was kissing her vanished abruptly, a tension knotting up his shoulders and his head snapping back.  Frozen mid-kiss, Rukia opened her eyes to see the whites all around his own.  Perplexed, she shifted her hands slightly and accidentally tugged his collar open a bit more.  A blush spread across his cheeks as he gulped, his Adam's apple bobbing in the gap of the cladding around his neck.

She could've laughed at how adorably clueless he suddenly looked.  Instead, she gave him an encouraging smile and lightly ran her fingers over the narrow strip of skin she'd exposed at the base of his neck.  It'd been an accident, sure, but it'd opened up several interesting avenues and she wanted to know what he'd do.

"Uh, R-Rukia."  His whisper was ragged and halting.  All the suggestions and advice his father has foisted on him about how to please a woman, in colorful, vivid detail, came rushing through his mind.

"Yes, Ichigo?"  Her voice was soft and sweet, almost teasing.

"Um, listen, about tonight.  It's just, I'd like it- I mean I need to say something.  To you.  And, if you're not busy or anything, maybe you could..."  He cleared his throat.  "Y'know, it could be like how it was?"

"Ichigo," her voice was quiet.  "Are you asking me to stay here tonight?"

"Y-yes," he said, turning his head into the caress of her hand down his cheek.

"Does that mean I should make up a bed in the closet?"  She had zero intentions of doing that.

"N-no, I was thinking..." he trailed off.  What he'd actually been thinking wasn't something he'd admit to, especially to the subject of such fanciful thoughts.

"You were thinking that maybe we'd just," her fingers grazed over his lips and she watched them part slightly, his breath warm on her fingertips.  "Share?"

He was pretty sure what she meant.  She didn't say it suggestively or anything, but there wasn't any confusing what she was alluding to.  Was there?  He was suddenly unsure.

"Yes," she said, seeing his growing distress, "I'll stay here.  I'm happy to... share."

She caressed him again, her fingers slipping beneath the collar of his robes to run along the muscles of his shoulders, and his mind went blissfully blank.  "I, uh. I've never, um."  His mouth felt very dry for some reason.  "Have you?  Uh?  Shared?"

"I'm a hundred and fifty years old!" she snapped, "Of course I have." 

"Oh right," he said too quickly, too relieved to process what she'd said.  A full second went by before his face blanched in comprehension, which twisted almost immediately into suspiscion.  "Wait... With who?"

Did he really just ask that?  "It was more than a lifetime ago, Ichigo," she said instead, putting some acid in her voice for good measure.  "And there's been no one else," she loosened her belt and shrugged her black shihakshou off one shoulder, "For a long time."

His eyes felt drawn to the expanse of creamy skin she'd so carelessly revealed, her neck and shoulder down to the cleavage between her (gulp) breasts were easily the most female nudity he'd seen at any one point.  However, he felt it was imperative that he keep his eyes locked to hers, to show her that his feelings for her couldn't be clouded by the allure of so much promise hidden beneath her precariously hanging shihakshou.

Rukia stood there, a coy smile curving up her lips, waiting.  And waiting.  He just kept on staring at her with an odd, semi-strained look on his face.  He was doing a poor job concealing how uncomfortable he was becoming and for a moment she wondered if this might be moving too fast for him.  That didn't make a lot of sense to her though.  They'd known each other for a while now, lived together, saved each other's lives a few times, and she was reasonably certain that this was something more than just physical attraction.

He fidgeted in her arms slightly but didn't pull away from her, trying to hold her close but not *too* close. The realization nearly made her groan aloud; The poor boy has no idea what to do.  She took a step into him, her body flush against his again, purely on the auspices of steering him gently to the left.  Suspicions confirmed, it was hard not laugh at the sputtering, flustered young man.  Hard indeed.  "You okay?  You look a little tense."  She ran her fingers down his chest and gave him a little poke to keep him moving in the right direction.

He laughed once, a short, rueful thing like a tightly wound spring suddenly snapping with release.  His lips quirked up into an honest smile, despite how awkward he was feeling, finding some self-effacing humor in the situation.  He bent down conspiratorially but faltered a bit as her scent, like frost and snowbell blossoms, wafted past his nose.  "I uh, I don't really know what I'm doing," he admitted.

Rukia hummed in acknowledgement.  Not normally one to admit ignorance, she didn't want him dwelling on his inexperience.  No, she thought as his knees hit the edge of the bed and he fell gracelessly to sit upon it, she wanted his mind on other things.  "Ichigo," she said, her serious tone drawing his attention away from the expanse of shoulder and cleavage she'd revealed, "We've known each other a long time, yes?"  He nodded numbly.  "Been friends?" she led.

"Yeah," he replied, his mouth dry.  "Close friends, for a couple years now."

"In the beginning, sure," she acquiesed.  "And do you think your feelings for me have changed a bit since then?" Rukia asked.  She took a slow, measured step towards him, her short hair framing her face.  "Maybe you feel a little more, now?"  Her tone was light and leading.

"No," he answered with finality, and he watched her face draw down in sudden doubt and confusion.  "I've wanted... More.  More than friendship ever since I saw you again in Hueco Mundo, after you'd defeated Aa... that Espada."

Rukia's heart swelled at his admission, despite the bittersweet memories it had dredged up.  "Well then," she said, her voice cracking slightly and belying her affected bravado.  "You shouldn't worry about not knowing what you're doing."  She moved onto his lap, and settled down, straddling his thighs between her own and draped an arms over each of his shoulders.  Staring down at him, she could see a smoulder simmering in his eyes as deep as the one she felt herself.  "That's when you seem to do your best work."

He felt her shift her weight on his lap, her legs slipping up to wrap around his waist as their lips came together again.  The pressure in his hakama was becoming unbearable but he was loathe to try to move her anywhere else.  He felt her fingers curl into his hair as her lips parted beneath his, her tongue snaking out to run along his.  He jolted beneath her, their kiss breaking apart and she leaned back to grin wickedly at him.  Her action against his hands, immobile and clenched into the material of her shihakshou as they were, tugged the loosened robe further from her shoulders.  It slipped down her arms and his nearly bulged out of his head as her chest was bared before him.  Her breasts, firm and round and capped by soft pink nipples, bounced free of their confinement within her shihakshou, standing proud and perky upon her chest.  It had been an accident, pure and simple, and yet he could not bring himself to move or speak.  Only stare at her, unabashedly, mesmerized by the way she moved, fascinated just by the effect her breathing had on them.

She made no move to hide herself from his goggle-eyed stare, only smirked down at him from atop his lap.  Pursing her lips and cocking an eyebrow before affecting her most saucy grin, she whispered, "Ooo, Ichigo.  Didn't think you had it in you."  He gulped and she nearly giggled at his stricken expression.  She shrugged her arms from the sleeves and resettled them on his shoulders, giving him a rueful smile.  "Honestly Ichigo, they're just breasts."

"Yeah," he uttered, as if the notion was as amazing as it was obvious, "But they're your breasts."

She smiled and rolled her eyes, leaning down to kiss him again.  Heated and passionate, the kiss sent warmth flooding through her system until she broke it off, her forehead pressed against his and panting for breath.  His hands, however, hadn't moved from her waist.  "Touch me."

"I... Can?"

"You should."  She snaked her arm around and snatched up his wrist, bringing it to her lips and placing a gentle kiss on the tip of his middle finger.  She closed her eyes as her lips puckered against the column of his longest finger, doing her best to burn that mental image into the back of his brain.  From the way his breath hitched, practically choked, she knew.

Her eyes opened slowly, half lidded and dark with desire, as she gently directed his hand closer and closer to her body.  At first glance he would've sworn her skin was creamy, nearly luminescent in the moonlight that suited her so well, but as his hand smoothed out against her body he could see he was wrong.  Faint and faded to near imperceptability, healed over by time and kidou magic, she still wore the thin scars of battle.  The hard life of her childhood in outskirts of the city, endless hours of training at the academy, and the missions she'd undertaken as a member of Squad 13 were written across her.  She didn't have a flawless alabaster complexion, she was warrior, she'd been hurt.  She was older and more experienced than he could imagine and yet, here she was, in his bed with him, willing.  Eager even, he gulped.  Everything she was, and she wanted to share it with him.  

She wasn't flawless, but she was perfect.

He leaned forward suddenly and he saw her brows rise in surprise.  She wanted him touch her?  He would.  The skin his lips touched, right between her breasts, right over her heart, was warm and soft.  Her initial surprise  apparently over, she wrapped her arms around his head, content to hold him in the intimate embrace as he felt her heart beating through his lips.  Her fingers wound aimlessly through the messy spikes of his hair as he gently ended the kiss he'd placed on her heart.  It was earnest and meaningful, and she could tell it had made her happy, but he realized to his chagrin that it was also rather pedestrian.  She must've caught sight of something in his eyes, some subtle shift in his demeanor, because she immediately froze staring wide-eyed.

And he struck.

Ichigo, curse his long frame, swept upon her like a rolling wave.  His arms were sent winding around her body, his long fingered hands roaming up across her back as a line of searing kisses and nips stretched from her shoulder to the lines of her neck.  Rukia barely had time to think as her head lolled back, quite of its own volition, and found thinking even more difficult as his tongue traveled over the contours of her neck, plucking at them like strings on a harp.  Her fingers tightened in his hair, desperate to keep him doing whatever it was he was doing, as her other snaked around to find his wrist.  "Here, here," she stuttered, clumsily tugging his hand free from her back and around to her front.  She laid his palm against her ribs, his fingers stretching across her body almost possessively.  Once accomplished, she let her arm fall limp at her side, too focused on the feeling of his mouth on her neck to do much more.

Ichigo counted himself lucky that his lips seemed inclined to continue exploring the gentle sweep of her neck, because his mind seized up as soon as she placed his hand upon her naked skin.  Uncertain, his fingers splayed across her, feeling the motions of her breathing as she rolled her head back, giving him more access to lav kisses upon.  At least she appeared to be enjoying herself, he noted.  She moved swiftly but smoothly in his lap, her arms reaching up to roughly push the collar of his own shihakshou open and off his shoulders, but stopped just as suddenly.  At first he thought it might've been because the cladding at his neck and chest was bonded to his skin in this form, and she might've thought it unusual.  He realized, a crimson blush creeping over him, that it actually was the hand she'd so boldly placed upon her, having been jostled by her motion and was just now resettling.

Directly onto her breast.

Initially startled, Rukia felt a slow smile tugging at her lips, completing the effect with a slight roll of her hips and quirk of her eyebrows.  "Oh, Ichigo," she whispered, watching him silently stammering, desperately seeking an explanation that he thought would not paint him as an enormous pervert.  She knew if given a chance, he'd snatch his hand away like it'd been burned but she couldn't let that happen.  His fingers were holding her so well, like they were meant to fit together, and the thought sent her nipple pebbling directly beneath his palm.  In a moment she'd caught him by the wrist, his face looking more and more panicked, and leaned close to half-sigh the words, "That feels good."  The syllables were stretched out as her fingers ran gently up and down his muscular forearm, encouragingly.  Suggestively.  She watched him gulp again and decided that she might be having too much fun at his expense.

Her hands traveled down his chest but he found he could not draw his attention away from the feeling of her breast beneath his fingers.  The pressure on his lap was mercifully lessened as she rose up a few inches and he heaved a breath he hadn't known he was holding.  Finally capable of thinking somewhat clearer, he realized two things in rapid succession.  First, that she'd enjoyed it when he'd been kissing along her neck.  The second, and this at the very forefront of his mind, was that her other breast, the one still uncovered, was now directly at eye level.

Seized by a sudden and base urge, Ichigo leaned forward and sealed his lips around the hardened peak of her other breast.  He heard her squeak in surprise, the soft weight shivering between his lips and moving against his chin.  Part of him wanted to let her go immediately, profusely apologizing for being so indecent.  Another part, a very insistent part, demanded he continue.  The thready moan above, drawing his eyes up to see her lips parted and eyes blissfully closed, made him glad he decided as he'd had.  A simple motion of his lips let him draw a bit more of the perky orb into his mouth, her hard nipple pressed directly against his tongue.  Boldly, he drew his tongue across her, the texture unique and distinctly feminine.

Breath hitching, Rukia was lost in the sensation, like a taut string running through her body and thrumming wildly.  She'd never expected him to be so forward and was relieved that he'd been comfortable enough to show some initiative.  She felt him clench his lips slightly tighter and lav the flat of his tongue over her nipple again, making her knees weak, and she thought of little else for a time.

"Oh... G-god, Ichigo," she whispered when could take no more, her fingers in his hair.  She drew him back and he acquiesed, somewhat reluctantly, before meeting her eyes.  "You sure... You've never... Done this before?"

"No, did I do something wrong?"

"Nu-uh," she answered, blowing a breath and ruffling stray lock of hair across her brow.

"Because I can keep going," he affirmed.

"Really?" she asked, pinning him with a significant look.  He colored slightly, realizing to what extent she might take him at his word.  He was spared from trying to explain himself when she slipped off his lap.  There was some guarded confusion on his face, unsure if he should follow, or wait, or this was even a good thing or a bad thing, so he sort of tried to do everything at once.  She couldn't help but smile at his half-risen perch off the edge of his bed.  "We'll see about that." A shimmy of her shoulders freed her arms from the sleeves of her shihakshou, the heavy material cascading to the floor and her untied obi and carrying her hakama down her slender legs.  With an indifferent kick of her foot, she cast the pile of rumbled black clothing away from her, all the while taking in Ichigo's eyes as they widened in their sockets.

"Ru-  Ru-  Rukia," he managed to say, feeling strangled for breath.  She was totally, completely naked.  Naked Rukia, right there in front of him, smiling at him like he was an idiot.  He was an idiot, some part of him was sure of it, but she was still naked and didn't seem to mind too much.  "You're... You're..."  She took a hold of the open collar of his black robes and yanked him up off the bed.  He found his feet clumsily, still gaping open mouthed at her, unable to tear his eyes from her supple curves and slender form.

"I'm what?"  She flicked her wrists.  "Nude?  Glad you noticed."  She set one hand on the gentle curve of her hip and looked him up and down, her other lightly playing with playing with her bottom lip.

He was about to retort when he realized his room had become suddenly drafty.  Highly unusual for a summer, post-storm evening.  He looked down and found his own black robes pooled at his feet.  His head shot up, an expression of betrayed accusation on his face.  It was answered by the most saccharin grin he'd eve seen.  Undeterred, he whispered, "You untied my sash!"   He was consumed with an irrational need to try to cover himself away from her scrutinizing gaze.

"Of course I did," she replied, nonplussed.  She placed a single fingertip against his bare chest and stood her ground in open defiance of his creeping self consciousness.  Painfully aware of just how aroused he was, he couldn't help but waffle between trying to explain himself, hide himself or apologize for himself, all of which have drawn even more attention to... well, himself.  Intent on taking his mind off his own sudden nudity, she gently slipped her hand across his body and moved the other, resting them on his slender hips and brought them together in a simple embrace.  She wrapped her arms around him, linking her fingers, and settled against the muscled contours of his body.  "There," she said, her voice just above a whisper, "That's much better."

Her self-confidence was infectious and, as he settled his own arms around her as well, he was starting to feel a little more comfortable sans clothing.  He would've thought himself to be mortified beyond belief, but now that the initial moment had passed, and the fact that there wasn't really much he could do about it now, he found he was breathing a bit easier.  "Yeah, this uh... This isn't so bad."

She fixed her expression into mock outrage, leaning back in his embrace to stare up at him.  "Ichigo Kurosaki, did you think this would be bad?"

"Well what I meant was-" he began, awkwardly stumbling over his words, "Y'know, it's just that, I'm a little-"

She interrupted him with a scoff.  "I think that 'little' would be the last word I'd use to describe you," she said still looking at him.  She let her gaze very obviously trail down his chest.  "I have some familiarity, as we've discussed," she added, briefly and mildly threatening, appraising his length with air of and expert, "And can say with authority that you are, wait what the hell is that?"

"Huh?" was all that managed to escape his mouth when he felt her twist slightly out of his arms and bend at the waist, stooping over and staring.  Staring?  Staring!  Right at his it's-all-her-fault-he-can't-believe-she's-going-to-make-him-say-it, erection.  Actually staring just a little to the left of it, like he was some kind of fascinating new Chappy doodad.  "What is it?  What's wrong?!"

Her eyes were sparkling with mirth when they caught his.  "Nothing, you idiot," she laughed.

"Goddamnit Rukia, what the hell!?" he shot back at her.

"I should be asking you that question," she replied.  "You're holding me like I'm made of glass!  This is supposed to be fun and relaxing, but you're acting like any wrong move will screw it up, so you're barely making any moves at all!"

"Oh come on!" he argued, his fingers clenching as he ran  them through his hair, "I've never done this before!  How am I supposed to know what will and won't screw it up?"  The seriousness of his question was somewhat undermined by his total lack of clothing.  "I mean, all I've got to go on here is what my dad told me... And Keigo..."

They both shuddered slightly before Rukia took his hand.  "Alright, I'm going to try to put your mind at ease a bit; you can't screw it up.  So you're inexperienced, but the best way to learn," she walked her fingers up his arm and over his bicep, "Is by doing."  A curious look of confusion clouded his features before being replaced by a dawning sense of understanding.  "There," she said nodding, pinning him with a steely, challenging look, "So are you just going to stand there, or are you a man of action?"  

His eyes flashed and his hands tensed, reaching for her.  "I think you know me well enough to answer that question," he said, smiling.

"Good, because I feel the same way,"  A light poke in the middle of his bare chest was all it took to make him go stumbling back again, his knees knocking into the edge of his bed.  He landed with a thump but this time when Rukia followed, she didn't part her legs to straddle his lap, she nudged his knees apart with her own.  She knew she'd need to move fast to retain the element of surprise, and knocking Ichigo bare assed to his bedspread was sure to be surprising.  "How else was I going to get you to let me do this?" she asked, rhetorically.  She wasn't really expecting an answer, and when she knelt to the carpet, her hands running up his thighs, she knew the power of speech was going to be entirely lost to him in a moment.  "Now relax," she commanded, her eyes flashing.

Relaxing was about the furthest thing on his mind.  He could feel the muscles in his legs tensing beneath her hands as they crept ever upward along his thighs, upward to places no hands besides his own had ever touched.  Propping himself up on his elbows but not daring to move one muscle more, he watched her.  Behind her snark and sass, hidden in the light of her eyes, he could see something else.  It was in the way her fingers glided up the contours of his thighs and onto the planes of his hips, and then back across the quivering muscles of his stomach.  In the way she pressed soothing kisses in a line that meandered from his leg toward his navel.  And it was in the way she let her warm breath curl around him, igniting the nerves along his engorged length without even laying a finger on him.  "Rukia-" he gasped.

"Shhh," she hushed, "Just.  Relax."  Her hands slid over the taut skin of his pelvis and eased gently around the base of him.  No one could ever accuse him of not being a natural orange, she noted, and would've said so had she not watched his eyes go cross and the tension flee his body.  Men, she mentally shrugged, if you want them to be putty in your hands; just put your hands on their cocks.  Not that wasn't a very nice one, she decided, very nice indeed.  She lifted it from where it lay pointing to his stomach, and held it gently to stand it upwards, just to get a better look, she told herself.  Proportional to his body size, straight and thick, she ran her fingers over him in a soft caress, trying to keep things simple so Ichigo didn't have an aneurysm.  She did not do it, she strictly told herself, because she was enjoying the feeling of his heft and rigidity, the thin, pliant skin sliding over the column of muscle and vein.  Her hips shifted, traitorous in their actions, revealing the growing depth of her own anxious anticipation.  With one hand at his base she ghosted her other up his entire length, refusing to admit to herself that somewhere, deep down, she was a tiny bit proud that she'd been the one to elicit this physical response, and gently wrapped her fingers around him, just below the tip.

"You okay, Ichigo?" she asked and was pleased to find that her voice only slightly fluttered.

"Yeah," he replied, somewhere between a gasp and a pant.  Anything further he might've said was lost as Rukia eased her hand downward, sliding the skin with it to reveal the head of his cock and he found he could no longer breathe.

His engorged tip came free of its confines, the silky skin pulled tight and shining in the moonlight.  "Wow, Ichigo," she muttered, unable to stop herself from running her fingers over it, swollen and trembling with desire.  Her hips shifted again and this time she totally agreed.  Rising up on her knees and leaning forward, she pressed a kiss to the juncture at the base of the head, her lips lingering long enough for the jolt  that coursed through his body to subside, before opening her mouth and easing the tip inside.

She focused on keeping things simple, content for the moment just to hold him lightly, getting him used to what certainly must've been a unique sensation.  Honestly, she thought to herself as she feathered her fingers up his length and watched his hands tighten into the bedspread, she had no idea why men enjoyed this so much.  She adjusted her head enough to let her tongue slide across the grooved juncture at the base of his tip, privately enjoying the texture as it slipped across her palette, but still did not understand why men in general liked this so much.  Orgasms, sure, she could understand.  Those were great, but that was seldom what this was about.  If anything, more often than not men wanted to prolong this whole thing, which just struck her as stupid.  Who knows, she decided, dipping her head down slightly and taking him deeper into her mouth, maybe it's some deep seated psychological trust issue thing.  Ichigo's hands left the bed and fisted into his eyes, the muscles across his chest taut as he tried to control his breathing, and he groaned as she raised her head, her lips petal-soft and sealed around him.  Men, she scoffed.

He would've assumed his mind to be in a fuzzy haze of blankness, had he been told that he'd be experiencing this particular sensation tonight.  And with Rukia!  But oddly, it wasn't.  A crystalline kind of clarity had settled over him, his entire attention devoted to her every action.  Every flutter of her tongue, every touch of her hands, every movement of her lips was searing its way into his consciousness.  It felt intense and new and strange; good, but so different that he couldn't do as she'd ordered and relax.  His shoulders were aching with how tense he'd been holding himself, beginning to rival aches in other places.  "Rukia," he breathed, teeth clenched.

"Mmmm?"

Oh God, she'd answered him without pausing.  She'd just continued to ease him slowly into her mouth, then back out to roll her tongue across his tip, and then back again.  She ran her fingers along her hair, tucking the stray bang ineffectually away as a thin line of moisture rolled down his shaft, silvery in the moonlight.  "Yuh... Ya gotta s-stop."  She did pause at this, and he lifted his head to stare down the stretch of his torso.  The image of her, cheeks flushed as she slid her lips completely off him, her fingers still wrapped firmly around his base, was something he'd definately be recalling.  Often.

Rukia met his gaze as she set her chin down on her hand, and quirked her eyebrows in puzzlement.  He was breathing hard and appearing to be trying to settle his heart rate down.  The poor boy really had no idea what was in store for him, she'd barely even hinted at what she'd been capable of and he was already waving the white flag.  Perhaps it was just as well, she didn't want him finishing too early.  She heard a gulp and realized her attention had drifted away, a burning red blush across his face.  Oh, she realized, she'd smacked her lips as she'd been thinking.  "Need a little breather?" she asked, feeling confident she'd deflected him.  She gave a little squeeze around his root for emphasis.

He felt like a moron as he gave a strangled kind of groan and nodded his head, letting it drop onto his bed when she released him.  He felt her set his cock back down, pointing up past his navel and still wet from her mouth.  She crawled up onto the bed beside him, a comfortable warmth at his side, and propped her head up on her arm to look down at him.  The sensation of the air on his free cock after being enveloped by the heat of her mouth left him feeling suddenly cold, a chill running through his body.

"Cold?" she asked, feeling him shiver slightly.

"Uh," he began, "Just a... a part of me?"

Perplexed only for a moment, Rukia let out a very unladylike snort when she realized what he meant.  "I'm sorry," she said, smothering her laugh.  "That'd be my fault huh?"

Ichigo, his mind off his uncomfortable anatomy for the moment, was free to direct all of his irritation at her mocking tone into the set of his eyebrows.  "Yes, it is," he alleged, and she was alerted to the challenge in his voice.

She put on her best innocent look and asked, "So, what are you going to do to me?"  She was interested in seeing where he was going with this.  He rarely teased and was a poor flirt, but there was an undeniable undercurrent of something in his eyes.

In one smooth motion he pushed himself up, reversing their positions so now she was laying on her back and he was the one looking down from her side.  She looked up at him, her blue-violet eyes luminous in the starlight, and her thin brows rose in surprise.  "This."  He was unerring, precise, and relentless as he snaked his head down beside her own to seal his lips across the pulse point of her neck.

She squeaked as his lips clasped her neck, her blood pumping through the veins beneath the tongue he had teasing across her skin.  She arched into him, her fingers digging into his scalp as she writhed beneath him.  If he thought he was just going to kiss her, he had a surprise coming.

So far his lips had been successful in what he'd tried using them for, and based on the way she moaned breathily into his ear, he was willing to chalk this up as another.  She'd slipped her hands around him, her fingers in his hair and across his back, holding him closer until their bodies were flush against one another's.  His own hands were in the process of gliding down her side when she shifted to face him more directly, hooking one of her legs up over his.  His hand continued on its initial trajectory though, and instead of innocently grazing over her hip it ended up settling directly on the swell of her ass.

"You like that?" she whispered, her voice mellow and low.  She caught his wrist and stayed his hand, enjoying the feeling of his long fingers cupping her cheek.  "I've caught you looking before, you know."

Ichigo blushed and halted for a second, trying to find the words to explain himself, right up until he felt her small hand gently pat his own ass cheek.  Taking this as a sign to proceed, he moved to capture her lips once again, feeling more confident.  This faltered a bit when Rukia took advantage of the fact that, now that her legs were parted, she could press altogether and unexplored areas of herself against him in mind-bendingly interesting ways.  Which she did, firmly.

Intentionally moaning into their kiss, Rukia ground herself on his thigh, her apex at the juncture of his hip and his cock pressing none-too-subtlely into her hip.  The friction was taking the edge off her growing desire, the heat pooling low below her stomach, but it wasn't enough.  The notion that she'd become his first, anything, had left her more aroused than she'd thought, and she'd set her sights on being his first everything. Well, she thought wickedly, the most important facet of any relationship was communication.

"Ichigo," she whispered, breaking off their kiss but still holding him close.

"Yeah... Rukia?"  His breathing was coming in pants, his arms tightening around her spasmodically.

"Touch me."

"I... Uh, am?"

"No," she said patiently, retrieving the wrist of the hand on her ass.  "Here."

Ichigo watched as she deftly manipulated his hand as she uncoiled her leg from his thigh.  She pressed his palm flat against the inside of her thigh, curling his fingers into the supple lines of her leg, before releasing his wrist and lacing her fingers behind his head.  He caught her gaze, looking flushed and radiant in the soft moonlight, and mouthed a single word to him.  'Higher.'

She had no idea why, she was no stranger to this, but she couldn't help but thrill and shudder like a fumbling virgin when his hand began to move ever so slowly up the inside of her thigh.  Her breath was catching as she studied his face, eyes dark with desire but concentrating entirely on her.  His own arousal, no doubt aching with need, lay throbbing and pressed into her side yet entirely forgotten in his devotion to her.  To garner that level of attention, such singleminded-ness, was instantly intoxicating.  The fluttering rush across her body at his touch, innocent in location but salacious in destination, had her uncharacteristically desperate for more.  

To prove that she was still the master of herself, to deny the goosebumps of heated anticipation he was eliciting, she parted her legs the higher his hand climbed, baring herself in more than one way to him.  With the same motion she rolled her hips, watching his reaction as his heavy cock slid along the skin of her hip.  A tightening of his jaw was all she earned for her efforts and she was about to redouble them when his hand, moving with the undulation of her hips, settled into the valley between the tops of her thighs.  She stilled, as aware of the sudden faraway look she had as she was powerless to stop it.

She jumped, barely, and her legs made the involuntary reaction to squeeze together as his hand came to rest between them, but it was only a momentary thing.  She blushed a rosy glow on her cheeks and bit her lip as her leg muscles slackened, seemingly one by one, until they let her legs part completely.  One was trapped by his body as he was leaning half over her, but the other fell to the side and she drew up her knee, her eyes lidding as his long fingers came in contact with her.  He applied just a gentle pressure, using the same technique he'd improvised as he'd walked his hand up her thigh.  Hot and slippery, she felt marvelously unique beneath her fingers, a dichotomy of tremulous muscle and slick softness.

He had meant to adjust himself into a better position, concerned that he might not be able to study his actions and her reactions sufficiently, when something seemingly innocuous had happened.  A casual adjustment of his arm was all it'd been, but when he'd done it the heel of his hand pressed lightly across the small bump at the top of her core and his fingers tightened harder against her slick folds.

"Oh!" Rukia gasped, tipping her head back and staring vacantly, her hands clutching the cladding at his neck. "Oh God do that again," she added thickly.

Obediantly, Ichigo repeated it, the pad of his palm pressed to a small hood of rosy skin above the coral pink of her center, rubbing it gently back and forth.  Her entire body arched upwards, breasts quivering and nipples hardened into dark pink buds.  Intrigued, Ichigo adjusted to replace the pad of his hand with the edge of his thumb.  She immediately gasped out a staggered breath, rolling her hips up into the contact.  "That's good, right there?"

"Don't ask... S-s-stupid questions... Oh God Ichigo, right there!"  She reached up pulled his mouth to hers, putting all her shaky breathlessness into the hungry tangle of their lips.

There was some part of his brain that couldn't really believe this was happening, that Rukia was here naked (naked!) and quivering beneath his touch.  That she was kissing him with such ardor and abandon.  That her hands were scraping their short nails down his chest-hey where were they going?-OH GOD.

Rukia broke their kiss and shuddered into his shoulder, pressing her forehead into the muscle and worked to regain her sense of control.  Her fingers gave clumsy squeezes along the shaft of his cock until she reached the tip, swollen and warm in her hands.  Working both of her thumbs along the sensitive underside, she managed to break Ichigo's concentration and the movements of his long, deft fingers abated.  He gave her a look, apparently wondering what he should do next.

There was mischief in her eyes, her lip captured between her teeth, as she prodded him in the chest with her finger.  Arching away from the pointy digit was what she'd had in mind, so when he lifted back she took the opportunity to slide her previously trapped leg out into the space he'd so recently vacated.  This left him pushed up on his hands and knees, directly over her, her legs parted on either side of him and her hand still lightly rubbing the smooth skin of his tip.  "I can't wait anymore," she said.

"Don't we need, um, protection?" he asked.  He was surprised he'd managed to get words out without stammering.

Rukia smiled and shook her head no.  "That's not something we need to worry about, Ichigo," she whispered, letting him lean down closer to her.  She slipped her free hand down between her legs as she guided him in lining their bodies up.  She was practically buzzing with anticipation, her body feeling flushed and hot as she spread her legs wider.  She met his eyes when his tip touched the lips at her center, feeling them pucker and part around him like a flower, their petal softness guiding him eagerly.  "I want it," she said simply, before he had the chance to ask if she were sure.  "I want you."

He felt a pounding in his chest that had nothing to do with his heart.  This was not a culmination of every moment they'd spent together, he knew.  From the day they'd met until now, through all they'd experienced in the past togther, to the honesty in her hushed voice all leading to the willingness in which she, no, they both, felt in sharing the most intimate part of their lives with the other.  This was not an end, this was a beginning.

"I..." he began, sinking lower, but the words caught in his throat.  The sensation of warmth and pressure surrounded him, his tip easing into the slippery confines of her core as she stretched around him.  "Ru-kia..." he gasped as she touch his hips, drawing him onward.  The hot, confining pressure around him left only one avenue, deeper, and he could feel her body enveloped his, pulled tight and trembling around his thickness.  

Her eyes were unfocused and her face, glazed and blissful, was the most honest and earnest expression he'd ever seen.  It was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.  "Rukia," he said thickly, his body coming flush against hers, their hips fitting together as he sank fully into her.  Her lips were drawn tight around the base of his cock and there was a sudden sense of completion across his body, fully encased by her own.  Her eyes had popped open at jolt of feeling him at her very deepest and she had gasped for sudden breath.  "Rukia," he said again, "I love you."

"I love you," she returned.


End file.
